Roh

Set sometime in the past, some indefinable era that could be any time, a family is tormented by a vengeful spirit in the jungle. Young Along and Angah, brother and sister, find the corpse of a deer wedged between the branches of a tree, a terrifying omen that they can’t quite define. All they know is that it shouldn’t be, and that it makes them nervous. On their way home, they’re followed by a young girl, encrusted with filth. She’s mostly mute, only says a few words, and the words she does say are chilling and terrifying. Along and Angah’s mother, Mak, believes the young girl is probably from the village just across the river, separated from her family, now lost and scared.

Mak and her children live in a small hut in the middle of the jungle, isolated from civilization. Her husband, the children’s father, is dead, and now she must fulfill the roles of both mother and father. Out here in the jungle, the trees are alive with sounds that could be anything from a tiger to some unspeakable, unnamable evil that lives off of fear. Roh inherently understands the power of what remains unseen, and the power of spoken story, as Mak’s children sit, entranced, but her tale of a creature that toys with people before devouring them.

The child who followed them home whispers that by the next full moon, they will all be dead, then slits her own throat. They take her body and lay it beneath a tree, wrapped in a blanket, in the hopes that whoever may have been looking for her will find her there. Before long, the family begins receiving visitors, both a man and a woman, whose intentions are unclear. Mak, protecting her family, lies to these visitors and tells them they’ve not seen a little girl, hoping these strangers will leave her and her family alone. But when her children start getting sick, she must turn to them and trust them, while keeping an open, suspicious eye.

Roh is part of a movement of Southeast Asian folk horror, combining the fear of rural isolation with local superstition. It understands that monsters, by themselves, aren’t scary. What’s scary is the mere idea that they exist, and the idea of what they can do, by virtue of being wicked souls capable of anything. A bump in the night and a whisper in the darkness is infinitely scarier than a creature clad in fangs and claws in full display. But, as terrifying as a bump in the night or a whisper in the dark may be, the reality of what it may cause people to do is a gut-wrenching reality.

Emir Ezwan, in his directorial debut, shows remarkable restraint in showing the audience his hand. The story remains shrouded in mystery throughout, and we’re never quite sure what’s real, what is caused by evil spirits, or what happens because of human fear and irrationality. Roh is a confidently crafted tale of darkness, of fear, and of magical realism. It’s a wonderful, disturbing story that feels like a campfire tale, sure to keep you up at night.

Vital Disc Stats: The Blu-ray
Roh comes to Blu-ray in a single-disc release from Film Movement and OCN Distribution. The disc is housed in a standard case with cover art featuring a little girl standing before a supernatural flame burning in the darkness. Inside the case, a shot from the film spans both sides, and there is a booklet containing writing about the film and Southeast Asian folk horror by Mary Beth McAndrews.

Roh is presented in 1080p high-definition video, with a generally very beautiful picture throughout. Roh was shot on a smaller budget, so there are some minor technical issues, particularly in low-light sequences, with color banding against a night sky —a sea of blackness. There are also some noisy shots where it looks like the ISO had to be cranked for the image to come out. These issues are few and far between, as the filmmakers have wisely opted to shoot at night for the real thing, rather than a day-for-night process, and it makes all the difference. Cinematographer Saifuddin Musa opts for naturalistic lighting for both day and nighttime sequences, so it skews toward the darker side, but it also helps convey the visual reality in a story that blurs the line between magic and the corporeal. If what we see looks real, the unknown becomes all the more frightening.

Listeners have two audio options: an LPCM 2.0 stereo mix and a Dolby TrueHD 5.1 surround sound mix. I gave both options a listen, and for viewers who may not have a surround-sound setup - whether using TV speakers or a two-channel soundbar - the stereo mix is engrossing and busy, all the while favoring dialogue clarity. Viewers who do have a 5.1 setup will be treated to an immersive mix, in which the jungle comes alive. Leaves rustle with a gentle wind in the rear of the soundstage, along with off-camera dialogue cues, and the subwoofer growls as fear and tension mount, as the magical world and the real world collide. Roh utilizes its radial surround soundstage for maximum effect, like in a jump-scare moment with a pair of clanging rocks that call back to a ghost story a mother told her children.

While Roh contains a booklet with an essay by Mary Beth McAndrews, the disc itself is limited to just a pair of supplemental features: A making-of featurette, with interviews from the cast and crew, and a trailer.

• Making Of (HD 21:19)
• Trailer

Roh is a simple, scary story that’s effective due to its restraint in overexplaining itself to the audience. Questions we might ask ourselves, like, “Why is this happening?” are all the more frightening when we don’t know the reason. The filmmaking behind the camera is top-notch, with effective performances across the entire cast. The Blu-ray disc, from Film Movement and OCN Distribution, while lacking in special features, boasts terrific A/V stats. Roh is Highly Recommended.